


love you like you deserve

by hanzios



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27279370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanzios/pseuds/hanzios
Summary: A series of protective! Mackson one-shots based on Tumblr prompts.
Relationships: Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i posted all these fics as answers on my tumblr, but i thought it'd be nice to also post them here :) 
> 
> these are all very short, but i hope u enjoy them!
> 
> (p.s. title is from 'peach' by the front bottoms)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He/She did what to you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i modified the sentence prompt a little hehe

“She said _what_ to you?” 

Miller was in the middle of taking off his jacket when he paused, alarmed at what Jackson had said. The doctor sighed, sitting at the edge of their bed, in a room just for them above the tavern. It was beautiful here; Jackson didn’t want to sour that by ruining Miller’s mood.

“It’s not a big deal, Nate,” Jackson said, the truth not really evident in his voice.

“Not a big deal?” Miller scoffed, throwing his jacket over a chair in the corner. “Jax, she called you a _war criminal._ She may be your mentor, but she’s not allowed to talk to you like that.”

Jackson shrugged helplessly. “She’s just frustrated.”

“That’s no excuse.” 

There was silence between them for a moment, the both of them unable to say a word, when Miller suddenly quipped, “I’m gonna go talk to her.” 

Jackson shot up from his seat, grabbing Miller’s arm just as he was about to turn around. “Nate, _don’t._ ”

Miller looked at him, eyes full of worry and concern. It always made Jackson so endeared knowing someone felt that strongly about him. The younger man opened his mouth to protest but closed it again. 

Finally, after what felt like forever, Miller spoke, “I wouldn’t care if she told me that, because it’s true.” Jackson tilted his head, heart dropping at the guilt in Miller’s voice. “But not _you_. She can’t call you that, Jax.”

Jackson cupped a hand on Miller’s cheek, the other man gripping his wrist, leaning his face on Jackson’s open palm. 

“You’re not allowed to call yourself that, either,” Jackson said, softly. “You did what you had to do to survive. I hope you forgive yourself for that.” 

Miller chuckled darkly. “That’ll be the day.” 

“Nate.” Jackson gave him a pointed look. 

The warrior merely nodded, just the slightest bit. “Fine. I’ll try. For you.” 

There was a tenderness in the doctor’s brown eyes before he leaned forward to kiss him. It was soft, chaste, a period to their heavy conversation. The couple then retreated to their bed, limbs tangled together under the sheets as they began to fall asleep in peaceful silence. 

Jackson didn’t know if he’d forgive himself for the things he did, but the irony of it was, he’d already forgiven Miller for the things _he_ did ages ago. As he watched his partner flutter his eyes shut, falling into slumber, all he could think about was how Miller had protected him for years and years. How he held him close and comforted him when times got too tough to handle.

It was _love,_ pure and simple.

That act didn’t need forgiveness, at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt: "Don't touch him."

“Don’t touch him.”

Miller glowered over the Grounder - or, er, _Wonkru -_ even though the man was a foot taller than him. He didn’t care, though; all he saw was red after he’d caught the man grabbing Jackson’s arm, roughly pulling the doctor and threatening him to come with him. 

Just in time, Miller had entered the room and put himself between them, his air of authority enough to make the man step back and release Jackson from his grip. 

“Just wanted the healer to see my sick friend,” he explained, voice gruff.

“Then _ask,”_ Miller replied, his glare on the man never wavering. 

The taller man grumbled. Seems like good manners weren’t taught in his tribe. Miller gave him a pointed look, head gesturing towards Jackson, who had remained silent behind him. 

“We’re in Level 4,” the man said. “He’s been vomiting for two days.” 

Miller watched as Jackson nodded, his sense of duty overriding all his other senses, as always. 

“Let’s go,” Miller said.

“Nate, you don’t need to-” 

MIller put a hand on Jackson’s arm, looking at him through his lashes. “ _Jax_.”

The doctor’s eyes softened, a slight smile tugging on the corner of his lips. “Okay. Let’s go.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not leaving you alone. Not now, not ever.”

Miller had his knees pressed against his chest, curled up in a ball beneath the thin white sheets on his new bed. It’s dark and quiet, save for the occasional sniffling from the other inhabitants of the room. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one who’d lost someone today.

He faced the wall, staring at nothing, trying not to think of his father on the door above the bunker, merely bones by now. The morbid thought quickly overwhelmed him, Miller’s tears wetting his pillow. 

Unaware of his surroundings, he didn’t hear the door opening slowly behind him, nor the sound of footsteps nearing his pathetic figure. 

“Nate...” A gentle voice, followed by a warm touch on the man’s bicep. 

Miller swallowed the lump in his throat, tears stinging his eyes. “Go away.”

The hand on his arm only gripped him tighter. “I’m not leaving you alone,” Jackson said, his voice a whisper. “Not now, not ever.”

Hours and hours ago, they’d been making out in a bedroom that was supposed to be only theirs, their future secure and safe. Miller had expected whatever this was between them to remain casual; he’d expected it to develop much slower than it’s going now. 

Not that he minded. 

All he had right now was Jackson. 

He was more than okay with it. 

Miller placed a weak hand over the doctor’s, appreciative of the warmth he’d given him. He felt the mattress dip behind him, a body suddenly pressing against his back. An arm enveloped him. Miller held his and Jackson’s joined hands to his chest, just above his beating heart. 

He closed his eyes, letting out a shuddered breath. 

“Thank you,” Miller whispered, his sadness not gone but dissipating slowly. 

Jackson pressed a soft kiss on the back of Miller’s neck. “Always.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can hold onto me if you’re scared, you know?”

“You can hold onto me if you’re scared, you know?”

The inside of their desert tent was dimly lit, the flaps closed in a futile attempt to block the wind from blowing more sand into their already-sandy floor. From Jackson’s position in their shared sleeping bag, he could see the lost, hard look in his partner’s eyes. But only barely.

Miller paused in his half-kneeling position for a moment, right in the middle of taking off his boots. 

“I’m not scared,” Miller huffed, averting Jackson’s gaze.

“I know you,” Jackson said. “You don’t need to hide your emotions with me.” 

“Tomorrow is the last war we’ll ever have to fight. I _have_ to be strong.” 

“That doesn’t mean you can’t still be human.” 

Miller pondered that for a moment before taking off his last shoe and crawling to the empty space beside Jackson. He laid his back on the hard ground, only a thin sheet separating him from the earth. Jackson pulled himself up, his elbow supporting him. 

He touched Miller’s face, fingers grazing over his cheek. 

Without another word, Miller wrapped Jackson in a tight embrace, getting the older man on his back as Miller clutched his middle. After shifting a bit, the couple settled on a comfortable position; one where Jackson could press kisses on top of Miller’s head.

“Come home to me tomorrow, okay?” Jackson whispered. “Promise me.”

Miller hummed, head on the other man’s chest. His grip on Jackson tightened. “I promise.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I love you. Of course I’m gonna defend you like that.”

“I love you. Of course I’m gonna defend you like that.”

Miller pulled his head back slightly, shocked at the overwhelming sentiment behind the three-letter word coming out of Jackson’s mouth. It’s not like they haven’t said it countless times before. Perhaps he just hadn’t gotten used to Jackson saying it to him even after a hundred years; he wonders if he ever will.

Even after all this time, the weight between those words was still close to his chest. That wasn’t going away so soon. 

Their crew had been in the tavern for the afternoon with nothing better to do. They were chatting quite pleasantly until Murphy - _who’s even surprised at this point?_ \- made a jab at Miller’s loyalty to Blodreina. 

Miller was ready to throw an equally jarring retort when, to his and everybody’s surprise, Jackson spoke up from the corner of the table. 

“That’s rich coming from you, Murphy,” Jackson had bitten, words almost inaudible from the glass of jo juice close to his mouth. But everyone heard it, loud and clear. 

A silence had blanketed their table, their friends looking shocked at the usually-polite doctor’s sudden outburst. Miller, a sly smile passing through his face, had only stared at Jackson, who quietly continued drinking his juice. 

When everyone had gone to do whatever they wanted to do, Miller and Jackson stayed behind. Miller had asked, “What was that?”

Jackson’s earnest reply caught him off-guard. And, quite frankly, made his heart beat a second faster. 

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Miller smirked, toning down his voice. “Y’know, it kinda turned me on,” he admitted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

One of Jackson’s brows rose. “Oh, really?”

Miller bit his lip, hand already on Jackson’s thigh. “What do you say we take this upstairs?”

Jackson’s grin matched Miller’s own. “Lead the way.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll be okay, because I know you’re back here ready to step in if I need you.”

“I’ll be okay, because I know you’re back here ready to step in if I need you.”

Jackson’s gloved hand squeezed Miller’s arm, trying to let him know that he’s alright. They’re standing alone in the middle of the bunker’s operating room. Well, alone, save for the dead body lying across the metal table in front of them. 

It had been an awful day, even on bunker terms. 

Abby had needed to rest after working on a 48-hour drug-addled shift, which left Jackson to harvest the flesh off of tomorrow’s meal by himself. It wasn’t as if he hasn’t done this alone before. It just never got easier every time. 

“No,” Miller said, staring at Jackson with stubborn eyes. “I’m not leaving you to do this alone, Jax.” 

Affection overwhelmed Jackson’s heart, but as much as he wanted the other man to stay, this was _his_ cross to bear. Not Miller’s.

He settled for a small smile. “Nate, it’s okay. I don’t want you to go through this.”

“Neither do I.”

“I have to.”

“Then let me help.” Miller placed a pair of warm hands on the nape of Jackson’s neck, thumb stroking the skin lovingly. “This is me stepping in when you need me.”

Jackson swallowed at the intensity of Miller’s eyes, full of care and love, only for _him._ He could never get used to how Miller looks at him; how strongly he feels for him. Most days, he wonders what he’d done in his past life to deserve someone like Miller.

Finally, he relented, swallowing. “Okay.” He grabbed Miller’s hand and pressed a kiss on his palm. “I love you.”

There was a light that shone in Miller’s brown eyes. “I love you, too.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Stay behind me.”

“ _Stay behind me_.”

Miller threw himself in front of Jackson, the Sanctum guards trying to grab hold of the both of them. Jackson had a hand tightly gripping Miller’s arm. They’d tried their hardest to get to Jordan, the boy lying on the ground with blood pouring out of his abdomen, but there were only two of them. They couldn’t take on all the Sanctum guards by themselves.

Still, Miller had jumped in front of Jackson without hesitation, protecting him from what the guards had in store for them. 

“Where are you taking him?” Jackson spoke from behind Miller, their eyes towards Jordan being carried away. “I can _help him.”_

“No. You’re coming with us.” 

Miller wasted no time in lunging at the guy in front of him, throwing a powerful punch to his face before grabbing the guy’s staff. It wasn’t a sword or a gun, but it’ll have to do. He’ll be damned if he was gonna let these people take them to god knows where.

With impressive speed, he fought off two other guards with minimum effort. He’d trained to become a skilled warrior for years; finally, his talents have become of use yet again. Adrenaline rushing through his veins, Miller managed to take down two more guards when a familiar shout behind him stopped him on his tracks.

He turned to see a guard wrapping an arm around Jackson, dragging him out of the palace. 

Blood boiling and with fear coursing through his veins, Miller yelled, “Don’t you fucking touch him!” 

As he was about to run to his partner’s rescue, Miller felt a dominant force hit the back of his head. And in an instant, he fell towards the ground, the blurry sight of Jackson in danger burned into his brain before everything turned black.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thank you for always sticking with me.”

“Thank you for always sticking with me.”

Miller and Jackson were on their bed in the farmhouse, Jackson’s arms around the younger man’s shoulder. It was the most peaceful they’d felt in a long time, and after a night of exploring each other’s bodies, for once unafraid of the threat of death, they were spent. 

Miller had whispered those words so quietly that Jackson barely caught them. 

Jackson dragged his fingers along Miller’s toned chest, rising and falling. Despite the lightness of Miller’s words, Jackson felt as though something deeper was bothering the man. After years of being together, he’d gotten used to decoding each nuance of Miller’s voice and body language. 

However, instead of prodding, he allowed him time to let it out. 

Miller did, eventually. After a moment of silence, he continued, “I know I’m hard to love.”

That confession made Jackson furrow his brows. “Not really.” 

Miller scoffed. He turned around to face the doctor, chin close to Jackson’s chest. Miller’s hand was warm against his clavicle. 

“I mean it,” he swallowed. “I can barely stomach what I’d done in the bunker. I just... sometimes I can’t believe you still love me after all that.”

Despite what others may presume, Jackson knew that Miller has always had a big heart. He was emotional and sensitive, and he felt so strongly that sometimes - like right now - he’ll beat himself up for things he could not possibly take back. Things that weren’t all his fault. 

Jackson stroked Miller’s cheek, the man’s eyes glassy with emotion. “I love you _because_ of it, Nate. You’re a survivor.” 

With his free hand, Jackson grabbed Miller’s fist, kissing his bruised knuckles. Miller merely watched him, something bright in his eyes. 

Slowly, after the doctor’s display of deep affection, Miller leaned forward and captured Jackson’s lips in a tender kiss. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m worried about you.”

“I’m worried about you.”

It was dim inside their bedroom at the bunker. Jackson had lost his sense of time years ago, but over time, his body had adapted to their nightless and dayless conditions. He was lying on his hard bed after a long shift when a familiar shadow suddenly appeared in front of him.

Miller’s eyes were still bright amidst the little light they had in the room. He was crouching to meet Jackson’s eyes, arms folded over the pillow.

Jackson tried to smile. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. He was your friend.”

Jackson knew who and what Miller was referring to. Earlier that day, they’d witnessed one of Jackson and Abby’s trainees get killed inside the fighting pit for the crime of stealing medicine. Despite Miller’s protests, the two doctors had stayed, eyes glued to the pit as they watched their friend get impaled on the chest. 

“I want to get out of here, Nate,” Jackson whispered in shuddered breaths. Instinctively, Miller looked around for any potential eavesdroppers; for all he knew, words like that could be enough grounds to charge the doctor with treason. He couldn’t have that. “I don’t like watching people die.” 

Miller placed a hand on Jackson’s cheek, swallowing. “We’ll get out of here soon. I promise.” 

“You promise me a lot of things.”

“I intend to keep them.” 

Jackson’s eyes fluttered shut, a smile beginning to form on his face. “A house beside the ocean, so you can surf. That’s my favorite promise.” 

Miller leaned forward, his hand finding itself on the back of Jackson’s head. He beamed. “Two more years, Jax. I can already hear the waves calling for me.” He added the last part to lighten the mood. 

It did.

The doctor scooted over to make room for Miller, the two of them settling in a tight yet comfortable position on the bed. They remained like that for a long time, Miller holding Jackson in his arms gently.

After he fell asleep, Jackson dreamt of a small wooden house, salty blue waters, and deep affection settling in a pair of brown eyes - a look Miller reserved just for him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You don’t know anything about him.”

“You don’t know anything about him.” 

Miller scolded before downing his glass of whatever alcohol Murphy found on the shelf. They were the only ones left at Becca’s mansion, what with everyone else being too busy saving the world. So, with nothing better to do, they’ve decided to raid the kitchen and hold a little wine tasting. 

Except a little turned into a lot half an hour ago.

Murphy was throwing a sarcastic jab at Jackson getting a minor gunshot wound when Miller had snapped at him.

The green-eyed boy looked at him from the other side of the kitchen island, one eyebrow raised. “And you do, huh?” 

Miller rolled his eyes, popping open the cork of a nearby bottle. He didn’t even know why he was so bothered. He didn’t really know Jackson that much, anyway. Sure, he’d saved him from a hail of bullets, and yes, they’ve chatted a number of times since they’ve been here. 

But knowing someone was different than just talking to them. 

“Just... lay off the guy,” Miller finally said. “He’s not like you and me.” 

Murphy pursed his lips. “Me and you, as in, criminals? Delinquents? Who’ve gotten more than just a little bullet grazing our arm?” 

In all honesty, Miller had never really liked Murphy, ever since their first few weeks on Earth. But the man was growing on him. That is until he opens his mouth again and says something that makes Miller remember why he doesn’t like him. 

“Why don’t you say that shit when he’s the one treating your wounds, huh?” Miller bit snarkily, taking a large swig of the wine. He grimaced at the intensity of the taste. “This one sucks.” 

Murphy snorted, grabbing the bad wine and setting it aside. “Fine, Miller. I won’t talk about your boyfriend.” He took his glass and tipped the liquid into his mouth.

The soldier coughed, almost choking on nothing. “Boyfriend?”   
Murphy rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t take a genius to know you have the hots for the guy.” Miller didn’t even know how they reached this point of conversation, head fuzzy due to the alcohol in his system. 

When Miller didn’t speak, Murphy continued, a little slur in his voice, “Go for it, man. End of the world and all. Who the hell cares?” 

Miller smirked, determined. “Maybe I will.” 

He’s about to walk out of the mansion, intending to trek towards the lab, when Murphy grabbed his jacket, pulling him back. “I mean, not now, idiot,” he said. “You’re drunk.” 

“No, you’re drunk,” Miller retorted, shrugging away Murphy’s grip on him.

“I think it’s time for bed,” Murphy announced, looking at the surrounding space with glassy eyes before landing his gaze on Miller. “Come on.” He put a hand on his shoulder, leading the more intoxicated man up the stairs. 

“I’m gonna tell him,” Miller said, under his breath. 

“Yeah. Tomorrow.” 

Murphy led Miller into his bedroom before retreating to his own. When the soldier was alone in his too-big-for-him bed, he briefly wondered, maybe Murphy wasn’t so bad after all.


End file.
